


Kiss Me Through the Phone

by phichithamsters



Series: SeungChuChu Week 2020 [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Day 5: Free Day, Locker Rooms, M/M, Phichit has a filthy mouth, Phone Sex, SCCweek20, Seungchuchu Week 2020, Song Titles as Fic Titles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phichithamsters/pseuds/phichithamsters
Summary: “But Seung Gil,” Phichit says, his voice a teasing lilt, “You’re always so expressive for me.”It takes him a moment, but once Seung Gil realizes what Phichit is insinuating, his eyes go wide and he scrambles for his phone, turning off speakerphone as quickly as he can.“Phichit, I’m in the locker room—““Then again,” Phichit continues, ignoring him, “I don’t want anyone else to see the faces you make when we’re alone.”--Seung Gil has come to expect Phichit's nightly calls, but this time, Phichit wants something different.
Relationships: Phichit Chulanont/Lee Seung Gil
Series: SeungChuChu Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621555
Comments: 14
Kudos: 65
Collections: Seungchuchu Week 2020





	Kiss Me Through the Phone

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SeungChuChu Week day 5: Free day!

Seung Gil has never been in a long-distance relationship before, but he is fairly sure that Phichit’s insistence on calling him every night after practice is _less_ of Phichit being clingy, and more him wanting to establish a routine. It’s one that Seung Gil’s starting to tolerate, and maybe even enjoy.

So much so, in fact, that he anticipates the call before it comes. 

He glides out of the rink, onto his guards, and out of the locker room without a parting glance. His phone is in his hand a second before it rings. 

Setting down his duffel bag, Seung Gil accepts the call. 

“Hello, my dear,” Phichit answers. It’s nice to hear his voice, but for some reason, it sounds kind of off tonight. Lower. 

“You sound sick,” Seung Gil says. 

“Seung Gil!! That’s not nice,” Phichit whines. Seung Gil opens and closes his mouth in confusion; he didn’t think he was being mean. 

“I’m not sick, I’m just…” Phichit sighs. “Do you have time to video chat tonight? Cause— uh… I’d really like to, you know,” he clears his throat, “ _see_ you.”

Seung Gil props his phone between his ear and his shoulder and begins to unlace his skate. 

“Aren't you supposed to ask me how my training is going first or something?”

Phichit groans loudly. “Ugh!! I’m just… you know! And I want to… you know, do that _thing_ tonight.”

Seung Gil thinks he’s beginning to understand. He pulls off one skate, letting Phichit sit in a few seconds of uncomfortable silence before responding. “You’re not going to say it?”

“You are being so difficult!” Phichit whines. “Fine, fine! I’ll confess, I’m horny and I want to see you jerk off. For me. On camera. Is that what you wanted?”

Seung Gil sucks in a sharp breath involuntarily. He does not expect his face to go hot, or to have Phichit’s words go straight to his pants.

Phichit goes quiet on the other end of the line. 

Seung Gil chews his lip. 

He doesn’t _not_ not want to comply with his boyfriend’s request— hell, he’d probably be willing if he wasn’t in his rink’s locker room… but since he is, Seung Gil composes himself with a few short breaths and places his other foot on the bench to undo his laces. 

“I can’t tonight,” he mumbles eventually. “I have a fitting tomorrow. Min-so wants me on ice at 5am.”

Seung Gil hears Phichit sigh. “Damn. That’s alright,” he says. “I understand.”

Seung Gil knows that he is telling the truth, because Phichit is kind and doesn’t do things like lie to him. Seung Gil finishes unlacing his skate and sits down heavily. 

“So, how _was_ training today?” Phichit asks, a smile in his words. 

“Fine,” he says. “Min-so says I have a boring face.”

“What does that mean!?” Phichit yells, the sound erupting in his ear. Seung Gil can practically imagine Phichit jumping out of his seat in indignation. 

“No— um, I mean,” Seung Gil rubs his forehead and sets his phone down on the bench to him, turning Phichit on speaker. “I’m working on a new program. It’s… mature. And Min-so says my face is boring when I perform it.”

“What do you mean by ’mature?’” Phichit asks. “Like…?”

“Christophe,” he supplies. Phichit understands. 

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“So, you have to perform a _sensual_ routine—“ Phichit puts emphasis on the word _sensual_ , “— and Min-so thinks that your expressions aren’t… adequate?”

“I guess that’s one way to put it,” Seung Gil says. He doesn’t know why Phichit is so hung up on the subject. He’s trying to decide if he should also be offended by the comment when Phichit speaks up again. 

“But Seung Gil,” Phichit says, his voice a teasing lilt, “You’re always so expressive for _me.”_

It takes him a moment, but once he realizes what Phichit is insinuating, his eyes go wide and he scrambles for his phone, turning off speakerphone phone as quickly as he can. 

“Phichit, I’m in the _locker room—“_

“Then again,” Phichit continues, ignoring him, “I don’t want anyone else to see the faces you make when we’re alone.”

Oh. _Oh._

“Oh.”

“Oh, did you like that? You usually hate when I get all possessive of you. I guess it’s only when I talk about how good you look when we fuck, bent over the bed and _begging_ for more.”

Phichit’s voice is pure sex, deeper than he has ever heard it before. Seung Gil tries to adjust himself, but he’s more turned on than he realizes and the physical contact makes his breath hitch. 

Seung Gil stills. He’s sure Phichit heard that, and even if there’s a chance Phichit didn‘t, Seung Gil isn’t so sure he _doesn't_ want to be heard. 

“Are you alone?” Phichit asks in a low voice. 

Seung Gil is sure he is. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Phichit says, volume normal again. “Now, where was I… right! I was talking about the faces you make when you ride me.”

Seung Gil groans quietly. He grits his teeth and leans his head back onto the lockers behind him carefully. He looks around the room again; there’s no one scheduled on the ice after him, so he’s definitely alone for the evening…

“You know you’re beautiful, right? But when you’re riding me, I swear to god you're the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Do you wanna know what you look like, Seung Gil?”

Seung Gil has never had anyone talk like this to him before, and it’s driving him crazy. 

“Yes.”

“Oh, Seung Gil, your face gets so red, it’s adorable,” Phichit breathes. “And your mouth always ends up open, no matter how hard you bite your lip or try to quiet yourself. It never works. I always have you screaming by the end of the night.”

Seung Gil is practically panting now. His hand is fisted in his shirt hard enough to leave wrinkles. He can imagine he’s more than halfway to the image Phichit is describing. 

“Your mouth... fuck, your mouth is heavenly. Just thinking about the way you swallow my cock,” Phichit exhales sharply. “And how you work your tongue and then look up at me so innocently, as if you aren't sucking me off at that very moment.”

He hears Phichit sigh. “But, God, sometimes I feel like talking just isn’t enough. Do you feel that way?”

Seung Gil is about to agree, but Phichit continues. 

“I want to hear you, Seung Gil. I want to hear those delicious noises you make.” His voice drops. “Will you do that for me? Will you touch yourself for me, while I describe how beautiful you look choking on my cock?”

“... Yes,” Seung Gil whispers. He reaches his hand into his sweats and pulls out his own cock, already thick and leaking with precum. It hurts just to look at, and all he wants to do is get off to the sound of Phichit’s voice. 

“ _Good_ boy,” Phichit purrs. “Do you want to know what I’m doing?”

All Seung Gil can do is groan. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Phichit says. “I just pulled it my cock, and now I’m slowly jerking myself off to the sound of your moans.”

Everything Phichit says sets his skin on fire, and Seung Gil can’t resist touching himself any longer. He slowly begins to stroke himself, the slick of his precum guiding his hand. 

“Tell me... more,” he whispers. His knuckles are white around his phone. 

“Anything for you, my love,” Phichit says breathlessly, just as affected as Seung Gil. “Do you know what I want to do? Right now, I'd really like to bend you over my desk, spread your legs open, just for me. And then— _fuck_ —do you know what I’d do next?”

Seung Gil’s hand tightens and he chokes out a “What?”

“I’d lick your tight little hole until you are just begging to be fucked.”

A groan slips out from behind his gritted teeth, and he picks up speed, pumping up and down his length. Seung Gil can see everything Phichit describes and it _drives him_ , his fantasies and desires being narrated to him through illicit airwaves. His back is arched against the lockers behind him and he’s barely keeping a grip on the phone. He’s also keenly aware of the slick sound of him pleasuring himself in an empty locker room, but instead of unnerving him, it makes him _want_ even more.

“And after I’ve eaten you out, I’ll take my time fucking you. I’ll tease you at first, playing with your rim until you’re grinding your ass against me ‘cause you just can’t wait. And I’ll start by fucking you slowly, my cock so deep in your ass you’ll feel it in your throat.

“Then, once you can’t stand it,” Phichit continues. “Once you're begging to be fucked harder, I’ll do it. _Fuck_ , I’ll do it; I’ll fuck you hard and fast, and pull your hair just the way you like it, baby, it’ll feel so good.”

 _Baby._ That word sends fire shivering down Seung Gil’s spine and he doubles over, his toes curled tightly like all the air has been knocked out of him. It’s just a simple word, one Seung Gil hadn’t even thought he liked, but to hear Phichit say it, to hear him whisper it into the phone like that...

“—But I’m not going to touch you, not yet, not like you’re touching yourself now,” Phichit says. Seung Gil bites his lip to suppress a low moan, but it slips out anyways, echoing from deep in his throat. 

“God, you sound so good, baby. I can hear you, it’s just like you’re here, right next to me,” Phichit says breathlessly. Seung Gil can hear the rustling of fabric on the other end of the line as Phichit strokes himself. It fuels the images in his mind— Phichit, breathless and needy, his pants around his ankles, jerking himself off in a desk chair, the sound of Seung Gil’s gasps and moans filling his dark room. 

Seung Gil wants Phichit to call him baby again. He grits his teeth.

“Fuck, I want you,” Phichit continues. His voice is no longer low and smooth but earnest, desperate. It matches the emotions coiling up in Seung Gil’s chest that are threatening to burst. 

Phichit’s close— Seung Gil can hear it in his voice. “I want you, too,” Seung Gil whispers. 

Phichit lets out a whimper. “I want to fuck you, baby,” he says, choking on a sob. “And when you are about to come, I want to look you in the eyes because you are so goddamn gorgeous, with your mouth open, your cheeks all flushed, your hair wild and messy and falling into your eyes— your eyes are so fucking beautiful, Seung Gil, god, I love you—“

Phichit gasps, his words turning into low groans as he comes. 

Seung Gil’s body is on fire. His own release is building, hot and insistent

Phichit pants into the phone as he comes down from his orgasm, but he continues to talk. “And after— after I’m done with you, then I want to you bend me over and fuck me senseless.”

Seung Gil’s orgasm rips through him and his voice catches in his throat. His legs shake as hot, white cum paints the front of his abdomen. 

His mind goes blank for a moment, but Phichit’s voice brings him down from his high. 

“Did you come, baby?” he asks softly. “You really are so beautiful when you come. Thanks for doing that for me. I wish I could’ve seen you.”

In his blissed-out state, Seung Gil opens his phone camera, snaps a photo of the mess he made, and texts it to Phichit. 

He’s still catching his breath when he hears Phichit open the message. 

“Holy fucking god damn _shit_ , Seung Gil, you can’t send that to me without any WARNING—“

Seung Gil cuts him off. “Thank you. That was… good.”

Maybe Seung Gil isn’t good at using his words, but damn if he isn’t trying. 

He can sense Phichit softening. “It was. So good,” he laughs. “Sorry for being so horny.”

“Mm.” Seung Gil shrugs. They’re quiet for a moment.

“Well, at least you have something to work with for your new program!” Phichit says cheerfully. 

Seung Gil rolls his eyes. “Fuck you.”

“That’s all I’m asking for!“

Seung Gil hangs up the phone, and takes a moment to observe his current state. He’s not sure if it’s from his orgasm or if his post-workout soreness is already beginning to set in, but he’s starting to feel stiff. Also, he definitely needs to clean that bench. And himself. 

When he’s toweled off and shaking the last droplets of water from his hair, Seung Gil checks his phone again. Five new messages from Phichit. 

>> SEUNG GIL

>> YOU DID NOT JUST HANG UP ON ME

>> Seunggggggg Gilllllllllllllll

>> okay, _maybe_ I was being a little bit much

>> same time tomorrow? Xo

Seung Gil types out a text and sends it before throwing his phone into his bag and leaving the locker room. 

>> sure. love you too.

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to my wonderful beta, [PeppyBismilk](https://twitter.com/peppiestbismilk), because we share the same brain and because she is a wonderful and supportive friend!
> 
> Check out the official Seungchuchu week accounts on [twitter](https://twitter.com/seungchuchuweek) and [tumblr](https://seungchuchuweek20.tumblr.com/)! Also, say hi to me on twitter [@phichithamsters](https://twitter.com/phichithamsters) :)


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